“I think you get Pips is my girl.”
“Picked up on that.”
“Which means I look out for her, all the time.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Poppy Malone isn’t the dreamer she portrays. She’s one of the smartest and kindest people I’ve ever known. She’s also one of the toughest.”
“You want to get to your point?”
“If you’re looking for a casual hook-up to have fun, move on. She’s not that woman.”
“You don’t know shit about me.”
“I know your type. A big shot executive that comes to Vegas to have a little fun. A gorgeous performer catches your eye, and suddenly you’re buying presents, paying for private cabanas, extending your stay at a swanky hotel, and expecting her to stay with you.”
Anger boils in my blood at his assumptions, and I stand to full height, crossing my arms to keep from curling my fists. He doesn’t balk, challenging me with his glare.
“Poppy told me you’re her family. Out of respect, I’ll let that slide. What happens between Poppy and me is between us, and I figure she’ll share what she wants. But I’m not expecting anything from her. Everything that happens is her choice. What the fuck is wrong with me hanging around to get to know her?”
“If she told you I was her family, then you need to know I take the job seriously. The family she grew up with chewed her up and spit her out. They fucked her over on the concept of loyalty, love, and moral values.”
“Jesus, Dante, maybe you should shut up and let Poppy share with me.”
“Maybe I should, but she’s a fucking superstar. She bounced back with flying colors. She lives her life with so much love it bleeds from her. I met your friends and family. Saw the way she glowed. I have to know you will not be ‘that guy’. The guy who breaks her spirit for his rocks.”
“I let it slide once, not feeling generous this time. I’d never break her.” The anger turns to fury, and I try to tame it back for the sake of Poppy’s momentary arrival.
His eyes rake up and down my body, which is practically vibrating. His expression changes as a wide smile splits across his face. “Fuck me, Pips found a Rambo.”
“Not smart to provoke me right now.”
“I had to see for myself if you had staying power.” He barks out a laugh, slapping me on the shoulder.
Staying Power? “What the hell does that mean?”
“I’ll give you two days. If you don’t figure it out by then, I’ll clue you in.”
“If you’re referring to the ridiculous phrase I think you are, then rest assured.”
“Good.”
“Shit, three hours ago, I had my sister in tears riding my ass. Now you. Is this going to be a habit?”
“Who knows?” He shrugs, still smiling arrogantly.
Right then, the door opens and Poppy comes out, carrying an overloaded bag and chatting with another woman. When she sees us, her face lights up and she waves to the woman, making her way over. All thoughts of Dante disappear as I take her in. She’s wearing the same sundress from earlier when she left the room, but her face is flushed and glowing, her hair pulled high on her head, her eyes bright with excitement.
My chest tightens and pulse races with the way she floats across the space, happiness etched on her features and her smile aimed at me.
“Hi there.” She stops a few feet away.
I step into her space, sweeping my lips across hers and wrapping my arms around her waist. “Hey.”
“Did you enjoy the show again?”
“Stunning,” I repeat the same thing from last night.
She beams proudly. “You had a much better seat tonight.”
“It was alright. I prefer my view right now.”
The hazel gleam of her eyes sparkles in the light. The brilliant mix of blues and greens seeps into me, hammering my self-control. I fight the impulse to pick her up and drag her away, needing her all to myself. She cups my cheek, scraping her nails through the short stubble. “I’m glad you’re here.”
The words score through my system, and I drop my mouth back to hers. “When I’m here and you’re working, this is exactly where I’ll be waiting,” I say against her lips.
We stay like this, her in my arms and caressing my face gently. Without saying it, I hope she understands what I mean.
“Pips, want me to take your bag by your house on my way home.” Dante breaks the moment, and both of us twist our faces to his. He’s grinning like a loon, clearly enjoying our show of intimacy.
“No, thanks, I have to run by the place tomorrow and pack.”
His amusement heightens as he looks between the two of us. “Is Ryanne going to be there?”
“I assume, depending on what time I head over. “
“Let me know what time.”
“Why?”
“I want to be there for this.”
“For what?”
“When Ryanne meets Evin. It’s the entertainment I live for.”
“Hate to burst your bubble, but I’m going alone.”
I jerk, tightening my hold, and glance back at her. “Alone?”
She twists into me. “I figured I’d go while you are working.”
“Tomorrow is Sunday. My shit can be done anytime.”
“Do you want to go?”
“See where you live? Meet your roommate and best friend? Get a feel for your life? Hell yes.”
Her palm moves to my neck and she squeezes. “We’ll go when you get a break.”
“Good call. If you showed up without him, Ryanne would drag you back here by your hair. She almost blew the roof off when I told her I left you with him last night.”
Poppy head plants into my chest, shaking her head. “Why are you two so dramatic?”
“It’s one of our many fine traits. I’m going home now. Partying until four a.m. is catching up with me.” He pushes off the wall and steps in, kissing the back of her head. “Have a great night.”
“Love you,” she mumbles into my shirt. He flashes me an approving grin before mouthing ‘staying power’ and walking down the back hall.
“You hungry?” I ask, placing my chin on the top of her head.
“Didn’t you eat earlier?”
“I did, but you haven’t.”
“I could eat, but it is late. Do you have to get up early to tell Darby and the others goodbye?”
“I already did that. We are sleeping in tomorrow.”
She moves back and grins shyly up at me. “Sunday is my sleep-in day.”
“Good to know.”
I take the bag off her shoulder and link my other hand with hers. “How about we order room service?”
“You ordered room service this morning.”
“Is there a rule we can’t do it more than once?”
“No, but it’s… pricey.”
I can see the wheels turning and pick up on her hesitation. “Don’t worry about that.”
She runs her bottom lip through her teeth and seems to think about it before nodding. “Okay, that sounds perfect.”
The walk through the hotel is mostly her asking about my evening and sharing more stories about her day at the pool. When we get inside the room, she pauses, letting go of my hand, and turns to face me. “Is it weird that I’m comfortable and nervous at the same time?”